Rouge et Noir
by magakee
Summary: Éponine Thénardier could never imagine a life without Marius, but when her fate is tied with the leader of the ABC society, a stange relationship begins to bloom between the two. What nobody saw coming was the series of events that begin to exploit her dark past, and Enjolras' with it. ABANDONED.
1. Kicked Out

**A/N:**_ No longer a modern AU! **Chapter two begins to make sense and get the plot going**, this chapter almost serves as a prologue! __  
Oh, and I do not own Les Miserables in any way at all. So, complete_**_ DISCLAIMER_****.**

**Kicked Out**

Enjorlas afflictively shook the mericless rain out of his curly, golden hair, hoping to obliterate the last shred of the anger that had consumed his tired mind.

The howling wind swirled around his neighborhood, simply adding the element of fear to the already anxious atmosphere.

He had run five kilometers from the Universitie de Paris, furiously gripping the light pink papers in his hands, till he stood infront of his small loft. It was beginning to look even more decrepit than it previously had, especially by the way the door was shaking in the wind. A few more blows and it would surely fly right off. However, something caught his eyes. A glisten through the windows.

Someone had arrived there before him.

Forcibly tearing apart the soaked papers and throwing them behind his back, he threw open the battered door and quickly recognized a face from his past.

His mother stood near the closet, leaning on the severely damaged, winding, staircase hopelessly, refusing to make eye contact with her fuming, breathless son.

"_Mere_?" He asked, shocked by her presence.

At eighteen, Enjolras had anxiously moved out of his mother's apartment in Rouen to his loft near the river Seine; close enough to school but also to the local market. With all his late nights spent studying feverishly, he found it easier to pick up some fresh beef or some trout and asparagus on his way home so he wouldn't starve during the week.

Her presence in his home made him feel beyond uncomfortable. Now, at twenty, already with a degree in French Law, he no longer relied on his mother.

Quite the opposite actually.

"_Mere_?" He asked once more, crossing his arms bitterly as he crossed the carpet to reach her.

"Enjy..." She muttered, putting her head in her trembling hands miserably.

"Don't call me that." He shook his head, "Please."

"They've kicked me out." She sighed, ignoring his plea.

"Out?" The word burned his throat as it came out, "What are you talking about?"

"They've kicked me out of the school." Grieviously, she added, "They've fired the whole lot."

"The teachers?" Enjolras moved closer to his browbeaten mother.

Terrified of the truth he might hear, he kneeled next to her, trying to look her in the eyes.

As tears eventually began rolling down her dirty cheeks, he spoke up, "Why did you come here?" He began to pace, "You live in Rouen; why did you come so far to visit _me?_"

Had news of his most regrettable action reached his mother already? Did his friends know of what he had attempted the previous night?

In his youth, Enjolras had never built any sort of relationship with his mother. He had no family living nearby except for his aunts, who barely cared for him either. A mere glance was all they gave him, and soon, he grew to hate the world. Including his mother.

"I came to see if there were any jobs in Paris. I can't afford to feed myself anymore!" She finally spat.

"You have sister's Dijon! They're rich; they never had to work a day in their lives!" The tone of resentment began to creep into his voice.

"No, you don't understand –"

"Have you forgotten that I've given you loans since I've moved here?" He fumed, "Why not your _dear_ sisters?" His words hung dryly in the air and he began to turn red from sheer anger, "I've been kicked out too, you know. All I have is the money I've saved up over the years. I cannot afford to help you anymore."

The blatant truth shamed his mother.

Hanging her head, she straightened her back and stood her ground.

"I'll be leaving then."

"I wish you well." He replied bitterly, standing to help his mother to the door, "Shall I send word out of your arrival to your sisters?"

"No, I don't think it'll be necessary. They'll know when I arrive."

"Why is that?"

"They've no home."

He froze in his tracks, "What?"

"Oh, and just so you know, they're kicking students out too. Especially the ones in useless areas of study – like history."

Clenching his jaw, he ran to the door irritably, threw it open, and helped his mother out, slamming it shut and sinking down against it, filled with rage.

Fighting back his frustration, he recalled a conversation held between Marius a few nights ago.

_"Hello?" He whispered anxiously, hoping that his friend would answer the door sooner or later and not his stingy grandfather. After a few moments of hesitance, a voice spoke up from behind the door._

_"Enjolras?"_

_"Did you get the letter too?" The tone of his voice was so enraged that Marius sensed it as he threw open the door._

_"Everyone did. Nobody I know has a job anymore." He stuttered, "Why won't Lamarque do anything about this?"_

_"Lamarque is drowning in debt. He helps the poor so much he can barely afford to help himself, and now, he's ill." Enjolras bit his tongue in frustration, "I can't believe he's ill…"_

_"All the news about the state of France must be getting to him..." Marcus sighed._

_"Nothing's getting to him!"_

_Marius shrugged, "We're doomed. My grandfather's literally the only one in the neighbourhood that isn't poor."_

_Enjolras played with a piece of his hair to distract himself, and then batted it out of his face, "This is all too much."_

_"Tell me about it!" Marius laughed, "Are we meeting at Musain today? Before they kick us out of that too?"_

_"I don't know, I'll see how I feel."_

_"Well, we'll all be there. Eponine's dropping by too. I'll see you if you come."_

_"Eponine?" He figured it was probably that pathetic looking girl moping around Marius all the time. She didn't make much of an appearance within their little society unless Marius was present, but then again, she barely affected it. "Alright, we'll see."_

Shaking loose his thoughts, he walked to his office, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror hanging on his chipped walls.

His stubble had grown out, his usually neat blonde hair was now sprawled out and messy, and his bright red waistcoast was wrinkled and untidy. Sheets upon sheets of notes were scattered along the floor of his office and were tacked up on the walls. What had become of him? Had he been so consumed in his intense studying that he had forgotten to care for himself?

With general Lamarque's illness beginning to anger and worry him further than his mother ever had, he banged his head on his mahogany desk and moaned.

Perhaps he would just have to go to the cafe once more tonight and sort things out with his friends, get his mind of the secrets he was keeping. Borrow some money from them if he could. His home was already falling apart, what did he have to lose? The only thing he had left were his studies, and frankly, he only did that to save his homeland. He knew something detrimental would tear the country apart eventually, but he had never anticipated it'd be so soon.

Grabbing a series of thick books he'd bought previously, he reminded himself to sell them to he library on his way there, as they were in good shape and he no longer needed them. Realizing what a mess his home really was, he didn't need more useless objects to clutter what space he had left.

Moving towards the door, he watched as it flew off its hinges from the sheer force of the wind. Letting out a yelp, he balanced it in a way that seemed shut and hoped no one would stumble upon it during his absense.

Trying to stay out of the rain, he ran out along the streets, ignoring the gazes of so many homless families.

If he prayed hard enough, perhaps France would see a much needed glimpse of hope through the darkness that continued to spread like a virus.


	2. Cacher

**Cacher (To Hide)**

In the now almost delicate rainfall, Éponine dragged her feet dismally to his home.

She wasn't bothered greatly by the rain, in fact it helped soothe her aching body. Her eyes were noticeably tired and empty, and she silently hoped that her eyes would be the only damaged thing he would notice about her. How could she ever expect Marius to love and care for someone as unkempt and poor as she?

In fact, the Thénardier's were the first to be kicked out onto the street, now without a home, and without a friend to go to – not that they had any to begin with. If Marius' grandfather would permit scum like them to live off what they had till a home came along, then perhaps they wouldn't be wallowing in the mud the rain had ever so easily made.

But Éponine knew the cold, bitter truth.

In fact, that was why she felt so horrendous and betrayed. Every shred of innocence she had left had been wiped clean off the slate, leaving her feeling empty and abused.

All because of her family...

All because of the con artists she called 'mother' and 'father' so graciously. Why hadn't she left them by now? Her sister had… Why hadn't she simply run away in the dead of night, never to return?

Because she had nowhere to run to.

Now staring at Marius' grandfather's home, embellished with flowers and ivy spreading it's dewy leaves and wrapping itself around every nook and cranny – Éponine felt like a piece of lint or dirt in comparison.

She was.

She couldn't ever let Marius' find out about what her father made her do the last night, it would change the very little he thought of her and she couldn't bear the thought of that.

Shaking the last of her deranged thoughts loose, she cleared her throat.

"Marius!" She called out, letting her voice ring in the air a little.

"'Ponine?"

"Come down! It's raining something awful!"

He let out a hearty laugh and her heart began to race. She loved his laugh.

"Just a second!"

"Alright!" She giggled, leaning against the wettened brick walls.

_Les amis de_ l'abaissé,she thought grimly.

She had known her younger brother would always hang around Musain during their meetings, hoping to get the upper hand or something. She had seen him there every time they gathered. That's what had given her the idea to visit as often as she possibly could, never truly letting anybody recognize who she was.

Not even Marius.

Wearing an oversized coat and cap, Éponine had posed as a man sitting through all of their lengthy meetings. Knowing how exclusive this society of theirs was, she had worn the disguise in order to leave the house without being caught in the streets and to listen in on what Marius had become so dedicated to recently. Perhaps she could impress him with her new found knowledge of the government and the '_republique_' that they had kept speaking so fondly of.

It wasn't until her possessions were sold for money, the family went bankrupt, were kicked out of their inn and onto the disease ridden, filthy streets, that she had misplaced her 'clever' disguise.

How she dreamt of being involved in these meetings day by day with Marius by her side, but no more.

Now, she would just have to pretend as though she had never listened to the stimulating conversations they had engaged in, inspiring her day by day.

The leader was a gruff looking young man named Enjolras. She only identified him by his soft tufts of curly blonde hair falling neatly in front of his face and the colour red. All the man would wear was red. She recognized a few other faces out on the streets, but didn't mind their names. There was a drunkard, a flirt, and a poet. _What a strange and wonderful group_, she thought blissfully as Marius walked out, holding out a sheet over his head.

"You're all wet!" He teased, handing it to her, "Keep it."

"But –"

"You need it more than I do." He smiled, moving past her.

"Thank you." She sighed; she didn't deserve any protection or his pity.

She deserved to have the rain soak every last part of her; maybe it would wash all her wrongs away. She took a deep breath and tiredly shut her eyes, taking her time moving along the streets.

"Epon-" Marius stopped himself at the sight of the bruises underneath them.

They had turned a gruesome purple colour, slightly fading to yellow near her dirty cheeks.

"What?"

"Your eyes." He tried to sound as polite as he possibly could, "Did your father - er - ?"

"I, um – yes." She lied, stifling angry tears. "Yes he did."

"You've got to stay away from him."

"That's easier said than done." She muttered pathetically, changing the subject "Anything new?"

"Well," Marius let out a yawn, "we've all gotten fired."

"What?! How?"

"Jobs that take up the most money get shut down first."

"Well that's stupid."

"Tell me about it..." Marius shook his head and turned left on the street, letting Éponine catch a glimpse of where she had done her 'duties' the previous night.

A shudder ran up her spine, but Marius didn't notice, he was too busy rambling on about his job. In fact, he barely noticed much about her at all. It baffled her that her bruises had finally caught his attention, at least something did…

The cafe was just a block away and the sooner they got there, the farther she could run away from her past.

...

The cafe was bustling again. Men danced on the tables whilst others were drunk and passed out in various nooks and crannies throughout the building.

The members of the society were easily distinguishable.

"Marius!" The drunkard called out, eyes aglow, hiccupping afterwards.

"Grantaire," Marius sighed sarcastically, "someone take the bottle away from him."

Grantaire cradled it sarcastically afterwards and took a seat next to Enjolras.

The leader looked quite exhausted – what had happened to his determined demeanour?

"Lamarque is reaching the end of his life." He sighed grievously, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"What?" Éponine gasped, all eyes riveting towards her.

Lamarque had been the only member of the government helping the poor. Without that last bit of income – her family barely had enough money for a scrap of food.

Ignoring her, Enjolras carried on, "If he dies, and the economy gets worse – we'll have to take matters into our own hands."

"Like what?" The poet asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure."

"Why don't you protest?" A little voice suggested.

Éponine immediately recognized it to be her brother and she quickly began looking for his location.

"Gavroche?" She called, looking below and above her.

"Éponine?" With that, a few footsteps were heard and Gavroche came into view behind the bar, "What are you doing at a bar?"

"Why are you here? Still trying to become a part of the society?"

"Didn't you always want to be?" He snapped, getting a dirty look from her.

"Not ever, actually." She lied, hoping her brother wouldn't realize it had been his dear sister posing as a man.

"Well, I _am_ a part of the society. Right boys?" He chimed.

"Sure." Marius responded, messing up his hair and laughing, giving Éponine butterflies.

"Alright, alright, moving on." Enjolras responded, slightly angering Éponine. Was France the only thing he cared for?

"Gavroche has a point," he continued, "if we let the people know of his illness, then maybe they'll help us. The more people we have on our side, the better."

"I agree." Combeferre replied, nodding his head approvingly.

"Tomorrow at six, we'll meet in front of _Corinth_. We'll spill out onto the streets and we'll protest!" Enjolras declared proudly, "We'll have to spread out though. Tell the poorest of the poor what's happening before anyone else." He jotted something into his notebook feverishly, his pen simply trying to keep up with his mind, "We'll need someone to do that and just that."

"I will." Éponine offered, catching his attention.

He raised an eyebrow and nodded reluctantly.

"I'll go with her!" Gavroche exclaimed, knowing they would never let him join the others.

"Fine. I need to speak with you both then."

Éponine nodded hesitantly and followed Gavroche into a small room Enjolras had walked into urgently.

She remembered the room very well. Enjolras would venture off and open a set of books around him, taking notes as though his life depended on it. Sometimes he would be at it through the entire meeting, giving Éponine more time to listen to Marius lecture the gang while Grantaire took swigs of his brandy.

"What's your name?" He asked her, bringing her out of her daydreams.

"Éponine."

"Éponine," he repeated, trying to avoid making eye contact with her, "take Gavroche and move along the Seine. Tell the homeless of the protests we'll be having first, then move your way up. Tell them that Lamarque is ill and we're going to take over for him."

"Are we allowed to do that?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"Take over?" He asked, "I've worked with Lamarque whilst studying law, he's the reason I'm doing this."

"Alright." She nodded, "I'll do that then."

"GRANTAIRE!" Someone called from outside, making Gavroche laugh and run outside the room, eager to see what had become of the boy.

"Does he always do this?" Éponine asked, referring to Grantaire's antics, already knowing the answer.

"We've gotten used to it."

She smiled but a terrible pain crippled her.

Falling to the floor, she turned red with embarrassment and immediately scrambled to her feet.

"Are you alright?" He asked, frightened at what had happened to the poor girl.

Éponine nodded, but judging by her dazed eyes, Enjolras knew she wasn't.

"Please, leave me alone." She begged, stifling tears once more, a knot forming in her throat

"_Mademoiselle_ –" but Enjolras had stopped himself once he came to see a deep red gash peeking out from her fallen sleeve, bearing her shoulders, "you need to see a doctor –"

"Not a word of this to anyone." She warned, suddenly hiding her face as his eyes widened.

Running away with her hair sprawled out in front of her eyes; she exited the cafe and leaned against the slanted brick walls that held it together, breathing heavily.

It was too late though, Enjolras had recognized her face from the meetings.

They had been acquainted previously. Why hadn't he realized that Marius' '_shadow_' was the same man listening eagerly to his lectures during the meetings? What a sly little _gamine_!

What else didn't he know about her?

She must have had so much feedback from their meetings, so many of their ideas fresh in her mind...

Running past his group of friends anxiously, he opened the doors to find Éponine – but she was gone.


	3. Vive la France!

**A/N: **_Well, my plot bunny is growing into a full blown obsession. I can't stop writing! I've got almost 23 chapters planned out and I know they'll be good! Hope you all like it too!_

**Vive la France!**

It seemed strange to the other members of the society how much planning Enjolras had put into the protest, staying up so long that his body could no longer keep up with his diligent mind.

The figures of the friends around him began to blur with each passing hour and finally, at half past eleven, he had decided to walk back home. By that time, the only two people left in the entire cafe were himself and the bartender, who occasionally drank too much and passed out behind his desk.

Luckily, he had done exactly that once the clock struck ten.

Enjolras ran swiftly out, letting the rain hit his tufts of golden hair once more.

With him, he had brought twenty of the notes that he had scribbled so feverishly throughout the day and a small sandwich he had made but forgotten to eat.

Marius' shadow made an appearance in his mind every so often, making him wonder why she was so gruesomely injured and why she had come to Musain instead of going off to the hospital. Was it because of her unholy obsession with Marius?

Then again, he couldn't allow one little life to distract the carefully planned protests taking place in a few fast-approaching hours, even if that _little life_ had been playing the entire group with her clever disguise for a full year.

...

The morning had brought nothing but another wave of fear for Éponine. She had barely escaped her 'home', which consisted of a few begrimed sheets set up as a makeshift tent, without being noticed.

Thénardier had woken just as she had, grabbing her wrists just as she moved swiftly towards the 'exit'.

"Where do ya think you're goin'?" He asked, his eyes barely open, "Did you do ya'r duties last night? Did ya get any money?" His beady little eyes glistened with greed as they did.

What was she to say?

_No, I didn't do as you asked, I hung around the Pontmercy boy_, she thought, grimacing.

"No."

"No?" Thénardier worked himself to a sitting position and let his rounded, yellow teeth show a little, "Why on Earth not?"

"Nobody needed my services."

"Nobody?!" He huffed, "You've gotta try harder! I swear if that lil' slut Azelma were still here she'd be reelin' in more money than ya ever could!" He slapped Éponine then, not with enough force to make her topple over, but with enough to make her stumble as her eyes filled with angry tears.

"I promise, I'll make double tonight. I swear!"

"You better."

Before Éponine could turn away, he tugged her fluttering wrists once more, "Where ya goin' now?"

After Azelma's disappearance, Éponine had learned of her father's morbid fear of his children leaving, and that if she did, he would surely find and kill her.

Quickly, she thought up an answer to ease his wicked mind. He would never do such a thing to Azelma, but Éponine was useless to him – he would barely hesitate if the opportunity presented itself.

Still trembling, she answered, "I'm going to see if I can pickpocket anybody. You know how people are when they're sleeping." She grinned and hoped he had bought her story.

"You're coming back tonight though – aren't you?" The force in his voice made Éponine shudder and nod quickly in alarm.

It was certain, she would have to relive all her horrors again when night fell…

After finally making a hasty exit, she found herself heading back towards the cafe that she had left so abruptly the night before.

A million thoughts had flown through her mind then.

Had Enjolras recognized her?

Did he hate her?

Was she even to keep his promise to him?

She had volunteered willingly to help with the protests, especially since Marius would be there. How could she break it? He would think her a coward.

After the incident, she had bandaged her wound thoroughly to make sure nobody would ever have to see her injuries again.

She thanked God that Marius had been too oblivious to realize anything but the wounds underneath her eyes, not the gash that threatened to taint her skin for an eternity.

...

"Combeferre," Enjolras summoned, "distribute the guns."

"We have guns!?" Gavroche asked, tilting his head up eagerly.

Quickly grabbing one from Combeferre he pointed it at Grantaire sarcastically.

"Good God Gavroche, they're not toys!" Enjolras snapped, grabbing it from him and agitatedly tucking it into his coats pocket.

Realizing it was already half past seven, he looked around to count heads as he did every fifteen minutes or so:

Combeferre.

Courfeyrac.

Joly.

Lesgle.

Feuilly.

Jehan.

Grantaire.

Gavroche.

Where was Pontmercy? Where was his shadow?

"Gavroche?" Enjolras asked, swivelling on his heel to face him, "Where's Marius and Emilie?"

"You mean _Éponine_?" He corrected smugly.

"Yes, yes," he rubbed his temples in frustration.

"Well, she's right there." He pointed behind him to the girl, now leaning on the granite staircase leading to the heavy wooden doors of the library.

She gripped a small scrap of bread in her dainty hands, taking extremely small bites out of it. Wrapping the last of it in a tissue, she shoved it back into her pocket and searched for Pontmercy, or as it seemed.

"You," Enjolras began, making his way up to her, "take Gavroche and set out."

"Along the Seine, right?"

He didn't answer.

...

It was ten o'clock sharp and the chaos surrounding Corinth made it effortless to locate what the protests had taken a turn to.

The rich had gathered around the scene, looking beyond wealthy compared to the poverty stricken civilians.

_It's a madhouse,_ Éponine thought to herself grimly, grabbing Gavroche's hand and running closer to the unfolding scene.

People moved in at every angle, temporarily blinding the two as they stood amidst the protests.

"_Vive la France_!" Marius yelled, pumping his fist into the air and holding up a sign that read the same.

"_Vive la republique_!" Jehan and Feuilly cried, holding up a blood red flag as Enjolras made note of Éponine's arrival.

It would be too risky to move amongst the crowd of people, so he stayed put, letting her watch as the police showed up.

Behind them, Thénardier.

"Gavroche, go!" Éponine commanded, pushing her brother into the unfolding clutter as her father approached, aglow with hatrid.

Moving into it behind Gavroche, she felt Thénardier's familiar grip on her wrist, threatening to cut off the circulation.

"LET GO OF ME!" She screamed, "I'll tell them! I'll tell the police and –"

"Tell them wha'?" He gleamed, "The man tha' tipped off this abomination is a con artist?" He laughed maniacally and pointed to the scene, "France is _dying_, 'Ponine. Wake up!" He pushed her to the ground, "Ya _lied_ to me!"

"No, no I –"

"Shut up!" He put his foot upon her fingers as she attempted to scramble to her feet.

The scene began to die down as his rage boiled up, "You know what, 'Ponine? You can do ya'r duties _now."_

Marius then caught sight of Éponine trembling on the rat infested streets, pushing aside the crowd hastily to go see what had happened to her.

"GO ON!" He kicked her combatively as she dug her dirty fingernails into the pavement in fear.

"Hey!" Marius called out as Thénardier and Éponine ran off in separate directions, "Wait! Éponine!"

He chased after her but her sobs cancelled out his cries.

Marius was familiar with Éponine's con artist of a father, but with the recent turn things had taken, Éponine had begun to seem like a con artist to him too.

What _duty_ had her father been speaking of? Was she working as a aprt of his team at last?

"Epon-" Marius fell back as he hit something that seemed to have tumbled over as well.

Her long blonde hair blew in the biting wind, letting only a few glimpses of her sapphire eyes shine through.

Her bonnet had fallen crooked and she wore a long flowery dress that hugged her small curves, outlining her tiny figure.

An authoritative man with a kind face and old eyes helped her up as Marius apologized, entranced by this sudden female.

"No, it's fine. I should have watched were I was going!" The girl giggled.

Marius smiled, "What's your name?"

"Cosette." She responded.

_Cosette_, he repeated, _what a beautiful name._


	4. A Righteous Cause

**A/N:**_ After going over the chapters I've written, and comparing it to the plot of the next chapters, I've made a decision and made all the changes necasary to support it. __**This is no longer a modern AU.**__ It can work much better without the moderness. Considering especially how nobody makes barricades in 1990's. I hope you all still enjoy it, I'll be uploading a chapter every week now. Thanks for the_ support!

**A Righteous Cause  
**

Marius wrinkled his nose, his sprinkle of light freckles protruding, "You're doing it wrong!"

"I know," Éponine whispered, shamefully disposing the last of his rough 'notes' to Cosette, frustrated.

It baffled her why he didn't just write them himself, but she refused to let him know that she couldn't write at all.

She knew how perfect he wanted his letter to his beloved to sound, so, however unfortunate it was, it was the only way to satisfy his needs.

The only other people in the whole café were Grantaire and a strange man, sharing a beer over the mahogany table he leaned over, and Enjolras, who was huddled over his mound of books, digging his nose into them as he feverishly took down another set of notes.

His eyes seemed even more distressed than the previous day, probably a result of the news he had recieved that he was as of yet unwilling to share with anybody.

"Should we just write the letter?" Marius asked rhetorically, "I think we've gone through enough notes for one day!"

"Alright." She chimed, moving her hair behind her ears dismally, grinning up at him fondly only when he returned her saddened gaze.

It pained her to realize how infatuated Marius had become from a simple meeting with a _bourgeois_ on the streets.

Had he really forgotten about her because of a chance encounter?

But that wasn't all that enraged her.

Cosette was a Thenardier long ago.

Not truly from flesh and blood, but Éponine's parents had kept her in their inn long enough for Éponine to have her sweet voice and innocent face engraved into her tortured mind.

She _hated_ Cosette for her supposed 'innocence', but mostly, because she had gotten a chance to escape.

Cosette had been handed a better life almost instantaneously, whereas Éponine wallowed in the sickness and poverty that clung to her family like a disease.

And now she returned, looking the best she ever had with Marius at her feet.

"Dearest Cosette," He murmured as he began the letter, cheeks turning bright pink, eyes beaming.

Éponine turned her head away from him and decided on helping herself out of grief. Leaving the table, she spotted Enjolras, now half asleep, eyeing her from afar.

She turned back reluctantly.

The man looked almost _ashamed._ How embarrassing it was to face him once more! He had read her like the books he clung to desperately, but at least he didn't know about her newfound 'career'. That would have shamed her _entire_ existence.

Especially when news got out to Marius.

"Pontmercy!" Enjolras called out across the café, pointing to his stopwatch and putting it back into his red coat secretively.

It was half past midnight – he had beaten his own record for staying awake.

Marius' presence was beginning to annoy him, even more so than Grantaire's.

How could he act so juvenilely knowing what France was going through?

His little life didn't count at all! His feelings were meaningless when the whole picture was accounted for. Why hadn't he realized that?

Enjolras yawned suddenly, forcing his tired eyes to stay alert and open. He knew his weariness was a result of receiving another less than desired note.

He had been kicked out of the _Universitie de Paris. _

News of his leading role in the violent protests that had plagued the streets arose and of course, the people were less than happy about it.

It baffled him why however. Was he not fighting for the very people who had been shocked at his behaviour?

Did Marius' shadow know why? After all, judging by her filthy appearance – she seemed to be quite familiar with poverty.

Quickly looking for a sign of her inky hair amidst the now almost vacant café, Enjolras caught sight of her in between the stairwells, staring out the window to the star studded sky.

"_Mademoiselle_," he began, walking towards her slowly.

"Yes, _Monsieur_?" She raised an eyebrow suspiciously and moved away from him slowly.

"Did the people listen?"

"People?" Éponine retraced the events that had happened to a moment where she would have spoken to others, "Oh! _Rue Plumet_!"

"Yes, _Mademoiselle_, did they take an interest in what you were saying?"

"Don't fret, Monsieur, you fight for a righteous cause. The people will follow what you say." She grinned, "If they're brave enough."

"Hm," Enjolras nodded, still a little astounded at her use of the word 'righteous'.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked back to his books.

Before leaving, Éponine glanced at Marius, who had sealed his envelope, admiring his work.

How she wished he would have written thoughful, romantic letters to her. Only dreams could make her escape into that blessed reality, and soon again, after she performed her duties for the night, she would be in the land of dreams.

...

Éponine trudged her feet along the road once again, watching as cabriolets full of judging faces passed her by.

She tucked her small, ripped shawl under her shoulder and moved along till the alleyway came into sight.

"Lovely lady!" A rough, sultry voice welcomed from beside her.

She swiftly turned to find Marie, a 'co-worker' of hers leaning against the wall, twirled a piece of her dark red hair around her begrimed finger.

Marie was only twenty five, but she seemed much older, prematurely aged most likely a result of the years she had been poor and stuck doing this job. It paid well, on most days, but sometimes, it could leave one hungry for weeks at a time. Éponine prayed she would never see a day like that.

"Did anybody come by yet?"

"Just for me." She hiccupped, "He'd been drinkin', I'd been drinkin'…"

"Makes sense." Éponine responded sadly, hanging her head as she joined the others.

"You alright, 'Ponine?"

She hesitated but spoke up, "This task is barbaric. We shouldn't have to do this anymore!"

"Prostitutes have been 'round forever!" Marie said matter-of-factly, laughing between hiccups, her words beginning to slur together.

"I don't want to be one."

"Where you gonna get your money from then? Huh?"

"I'll find a job."

"You can't read."

"I'll – I'll," but she didn't know.

Éponine had given up trying to defend herself.

"Face it; this is the only way we can get food on the table!" Marie stripped off her shoes and leaned against the wall, "You'll get ova' it! You're young!"

"I won't be when this is over," Éponine muttered pathetically.

She had only done it once though- sort of. She had hit the man 'reserved' for her on top of the head violently with her leg as he bent over, anxiously stealing money from him as he fainted.

_Twenty francs._

Although he had marked her with his protests, she had escaped and he had fainted without ever having to see her again.

Throughout the nights she spent solemnly in the alleyway, she would wait till the other prostitutes slept, taking money from them instead of earning any herself.

Should couldn't do it. She couldn't completely loose her innocence to a strange man.

Night by dreadful night, Éponine began to feel more and more like her father, but there was no other way to make an income.

She would have to keep doing this or her father would lash out again and spoil her secret.

She had to.


	5. The Hour of Fate

**A/N: **_I am sooo excited to write the next few chapters of Rouge et Noir! I've gotten a brilliant idea about the plot, and, after running but a few tumblr users and some les mis fanatics - decided to go with it! I know you'll all love it (hopefully). Just wait you guys...just wait...  
___

** The Hour of Fate**

The scars her father and her first night on the job had left on her neck were slowly turning to a diluted version of her tanned skin. Éponine ran her slender fingers over the most recent one, grinning at the progress it was making.

She could catch glimpses of Marius' reflection in the window, smiling like a fool and scribbling more letters to his _Cosette_. He wasn't doing it with nearly as much raw power and emotion as Enjolras, but never the less, scribbling away.

"He'll set the pen on fire sooner or later," Grantaire muttered cynically, taking another swig of his brandy, "what's she doing here again?" He asked quietly, sharing a glance with Joly and Lesgles.

"She's Marius' shadow, remember?" They all chortled and met her angry gaze, tears welling up in her tired eyes.

"I'm leaving." She swallowed bitterly, unaware of who she was talking to.

Moving past Enjolras, who was sitting the steps, looking as though he were counting the stars in the deepening skies, Éponine covered her mouth as she let out a cry.

What was the waif crying about now? _Probably another incident with her dearly beloved_, Enjolras thought grimly, sending back a sharp glance at the table Marius was sitting at, drowning in his thoughts of romance.

He watched speechlessly as Éponine fell to her knees in the darkness, tears spilling out of her lovelorn eyes. Should he have helped her? Shaking his woeful thoughts loose, he stormed to Marius' table and placed his hands firmly around his inkwell and mounds of envelopes.

"Still writing?" Enjolras sneered; peering into his comrade's beaming eyes.

No response.

"Marius," he began, "I doubt you do not mean it well, but we literally have a higher cause!" Enjolras pivoted on his heal to walk away but stopped himself when Marius replied.

"Enjolras, please – I love her."

"Marius, don't take this offensively, but who cares? We're striving to save France! We cannot be bothered with these little things anymore…" Huffing, he turned away from his confidant, only to be stopped by a tipsy Grantaire.

"Is Marius still lovesick?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Enjolras seemed sickened and suddenly remembered the shadow once more, "Excuse me." He sighed, pushing his friend away blandly and marching down the steps leading to the doorway swiftly.

Éponine was now dancing under the starlight dizzily, smiling sadly to herself wistfully.

"_Mademoiselle_," he spoke smoothly, loath to disturb her moment.

She froze in an awkward position, her back facing him as the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Hello, Monsieur…" she croaked, turning slowly to meet his stern gaze.

"Joly, um, told me that you're better off coming inside..."

"You're a good liar Monsieur," Éponine replied competently, "why are you out here? I hold no worth for you."

Enjolras stood in astonishment before the girl, "Nonsense. You are no better or worse than any other citizen of France."

Éponine let out a snort of derision and stared at him blankly, waiting for a proper answer.

"Why were you present at all our meetings?" He spit.

Stunned by the blatant question, she twirled dismally in place then sat on the silver pavements, pondering her answers. Enjolras grimaced and stiffened his posture.

"I just wanted to impress Marius…" she uttered foolishly, "please don't mock me..."

_Of course, every action the girl did was for Marius_, Enjolras thought before shaking his head.

"I would _never_, Mademoiselle."

A glimpse of happiness shone in Éponine's eyes but faded again as her smile disappeared, "You don't have to stay, you know."

But he_ wanted_ to.

"I-" but his words were interrupted at the sight of Gavroche running frantically past the two and into the café.

Enjolras followed with Éponine at his heels, both of them standing awkwardly near the doorway.

"_LISTEN EVERYBODY!"_ The young boy called, all eyes riveted on him, "Lamarque is dead."

Enjolras' head shot up, a million thoughts flying through him feverishly.

"Lamarque's death is the hour of fate." He declared proudly, taking more responsibility for himself, "On the tomb of Lamarque shall our barricade arise!"

The café broke out in cheers and Éponine looked around for any sign of Marius.

Feeling a familiar warmth on her arm, she turned to find him, ink smudged on his nose and cheeks, with a letter.

"Éponine, you'll help me find her won't you?" His voice sounded out of place in the commotion the café had turned to.

"That _bourgeois to a penny thing_?" She snapped.

"Éponine, please?"

She bowed her sadly and nodded, "Of course, Monsieur Marius."


	6. A Heart Full of Love

**A/N: **_Sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. I get so many plot bunnies it's hard to focus sometimes! I have a feeling most of my stories are going to be E/E, but hey, at least we love 'em. Oh! And Montparnasse starts to make an appearance in the chapter! He's so much fun to write about :3  
_

**A Heart Full of Love  
**

The skies seemed particularly astonishing as the two wayward souls made their way hastily down the cobblestone paths. Each _rue_ began to distress Éponine further, until finally, they had reached _Rue Plumet_.

"She lives here," Éponine began, but Marius barely heard a word she had said.

It was hard to believe that even in the disarray of Musain and Corinth, Marius' 'shallow' desires were of the utmost importance to him.

_Why, compared to Enjolras – he was barely a man at all_, Éponine thought heedlessly. He had met her only days ago, and yet he had recognized her face from all the meetings. He had seen her horrible wounds. _He_ knew her better than Marius probably did…

Saddened by her thoughts, she suddenly found herself standing in the passage alone. Moving swiftly along the passageway, she caught sight of Cosette's brilliant hair and sapphire eyes shining in the darkness between the ivy bound gate which Marius clung to desperately.

"_He was never mine to keep_," she muttered under her breath, turning away keenly.

How happy they both looked, staring blissfully into one another's beaming eyes.

Why hadn't he ever looked at her that way?

Turning her head away, Éponine let out a sob and covered her ears as the lovers' laughter echoed into the alleyway, piercing her thoughts.

Soon, she heard a rustling in the bushes and Marius let out a small gasp. Éponine cocked her head to see what had happened to her unfolding nightmare, but witnessed Marius walk straight past her instead.

"_M_- _Monsieur_ Marius –" She stuttered, hurrying after him immediately, but the sudden clouds that rolled overhead followed by a clap of thunder silenced her.

_He had left her._

The rain began to soak every part of her body and she embraced it, hoping that it would finally wash of the filth that clung to her...

"Who's this hussy?" A voice grumbled suddenly, catching Éponine off guard.

"It's your daughter; can't you recognize your own kid?" Montparnasse snickered, "Hello, hello dear 'Ponine. Long-time no see." He wrapped his arm around her waist slyly as Thénardier eyed them suspiciously.

"Don't _touch me_, 'Parnasse. Don't you have some bank to rob? Some deed to fulfill?"

"Don't _you_?" Thénardier snapped, grabbing Éponine's wrists frighteningly tight once more, "What are ya doin' here?"

"What are _you_?" She raised her eyebrow and slipped out of his grip.

"There's a big price on Valjean's head. Figured, while I 'ave a lucky streak, might as well get him arrested to!"

"W- What?"

"Now move outta my way!" Thénardier screeched, pushing his daughter away combatively.

Montparnasse stumbled slightly then carried on behind the old villain.

"No – no! You can't!" Éponine cried, running swiftly beside him once more.

She tugged on Montparnasse's hand when her father didn't pay attention, "I know who lives here! They live in peace, they live ordinary lives! You can't just –"

"Take it all away?" Thénardier snickered, "Well, yeah, I guess I sort of can."

"You can't!" Éponine yelled, "I'll scream! I'll warn them all here!" She declared proudly.

"You won't dare." Montparnasse snapped, exchanging a sly glance with Babet.

"But I think I will."

"Éponin-" but Thénardier's pleas were cancelled out by Éponine's bloodcurdling screams, ringing in the vacant air. The national guardsmen's footsteps could be heard from blocks away, nearing them inch by inch.

"You're a bloody idiot girl!" Thénardier screeched, raising his hand and slapping her across the face brutally.

Montparnasse flinched and turned away.

"Éponine, I-" He began but was whisked away by Thénardier's begging and Babet's tightening grip.

Éponine lay in her place, her scarlet cheek swollen and throbbing. Tears sprung to her tired eyes and she winced.

_Everyone had left her._

She scrambled up to her feet and ran further down _Chanvrerie_ until she reached an intersection.

One way would lead straight to Corinth and Musain, and the other way home.

She wouldn't find anybody to care for her either way, but at least she wouldn't have to face Thénardier again at Corinth.

She could also find a drink at Corinth; it wasn't too late in the night. Éponine gathered up her courage and marched down towards the old wine shop with her damaged pride.

...

Enjolras had been studying intensely for hours on end, sticking his nose in mounds of different books and absorbing all the knowledge he could.

If he couldn't be taught by the lousy school he had been thrown out of so blatantly, then perhaps he could teach _himself_ just as well. He had to.

The doors to Corinth swung open and Enjolras found himself facing the teary eyed 'shadow' of Marius.

"Oh!" She gasped as she caught his determined eyes, "I didn't think anybody else would be in here," she let out a snort and turned away, wiping away another set of tears.

"_Mademoiselle,"_ Enjolras suddenly said, "it is a wine shop, not a home. Anyone is free to come and go as they please."

"But, you're studying. I would hate to distract you –"

"And you are crying. I'd hate to leave you to your lonesome."

Éponine held her breath at his sudden remark and turned pink, "Don't mock me _Monsieur_."

Enjolras felt the corners of his mouth turn up at her remark and he shut his book, "I won't."

She moved towards him slowly, refusing to make any eye contact.

_How pathetic, another set of sobs for her beloved,_ Enjolras thought bitterly as she sat across the table from him.

"Why are you so upset?"

_What?  
_  
Éponine let out a sigh and rubbed her temples in a desperate attempt to rid herself of frustration, "It would not be right for me to concern you with such things."

"If it makes you feel any better," he replied smoothly, "I won't concern myself at all."

_What was he doing?_

"Very well then," Éponine sniffled at met Enjolras gaze once again before he quickly riveted his attention to the cover of his leather bound book, "Monsieur Marius is gone and, I'll never get him back."

"Gone?" Enjolras raised his eyebrow, "You mean off with that _bourgeois?_"

"Yes," she replied, slightly exasperated, "he loves her."

"So?"

"_Monsieur_," Éponine began, feeling tears flood her eyes once more, "he won't ever love me the way he loves her – and you won't _ever_ understand!" She spat, "All you care about is the stupid revolution!"

Enjolras slammed his hands on the table as he stood to his feet, "I care about many other things, _Mademoiselle-_"

"Like what?" She sputtered, holding her hands above her head in defense.

Enjolras teetered, offended by her action. He grabbed her hand and warmed it with his own hesitantly, not knowing what to say. He took a deep breath and found his peace of mind once more, "Like you."  
_  
_Éponine opened her mouth to protest but shut it quickly in horror, "W- What?"

Enjolras stumbled backwards and Éponine ran away from him and out of Corinth while she had the chance, leaving as the door flew open and the cold night breeze swept in.

_What had he done?_

Marius ran in with her at his heels all of a sudden, making Enjolras roll his eyes in disgust.

"I'll fight here, tomorrow. I promise."

"_Fight_?" Éponine whimpered, "You're not actually going to –"

"Yes, we are." Marius declared proudly, moving past Enjolras and towards the bar.

Enjolras shook his head and walked past Éponine, stopping briefly by her side to whisper, "And don't you even consider joining us."


	7. Éponine's Errand

**A/N:** _I recently had the opportunity to go to the a spoken word festival and man, I realized - poetry is not my thing. I totally respect poets and their ability to put so much feeling into so little, but I think I'll stick with my fanfiction and short stories for now ;) Oh! And sorry if this chapter is a bit confusing!  
_

**Éponine's Errand **

Éponine rubbed her hands together anxiously, warming her palms from the biting cold.

She bid her mother goodbye silently, ignoring her sleeping villain of a father, and marched out onto the vacant streets.

The morning air seemed cooler than usual, leaving a peculiar frigidness mingling in the light breezes that moved through each _rue_. It was closer to noon than dawn, and most of the villagers were gathered that the funeral taking place for their beloved General Lamarque.

Éponine had known of her inability to participate at the protests to take place at his tomb since her incident with Enjolras – but knowing that she couldn't save her Marius clawed at her withiring insides.

Enjolras' sudden interest in her had taken her completely off guard, to a point where she couldn't bear the thought of the society's leader at all. She couldn't tolerate thoughts of his soft golden tufts of hair or his unwavering demeanour, his tenacious efforts to the barricades, his immense patriotism…

She paused suddenly at the curb of the street, picking up the sound of rifles being shot combatively. Screams hung in the previously dead air and soldiers could be heard shouting fiery orders. A flood of frightened pedestrians and villagers flowed fretfully fowards to Éponine.

Their battle had begun, and what was she to do of it? Waver around till news of Marius' death reached her? Surely she wouldn't let Enjolras' meaningless words stop her from being the difference between life and death for Marius… would she?

...

Enjolras moved a piece of hair from his dewy forehead, exchanging a satisfied nod with Combeferre and priming his gun, then tucked it underneath his arm.

"She's not here is she?" Marius asked suddenly, moving into Enjolras' peripheral vision.

The revolutionary cocked an eyebrow and frowned, the mere thought Marius had implanted in his mind beginning to tear him apart, "If you're speaking of your _shadow_, then no."

"I needed her to deliver something to Cosette…"

"_Cosette_," he replied hypocritically, "she's of the least importance here Marius. I suggest that you put your thoughts towards something useful."  
"No, you don't understand-" he argued.

"I do understand. If you want to leave, Marius, go and be at peace with your dearly beloved."

Marius opened his mouth to argue but frowned instead at the calls of his comrades, asking him to take a bottle of brandy away from a severely intoxicated Grantaire.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and pulled at his hair, making a sad attempt at ridding his mind of thoughts of the Thénardier girl.

The impact she had made on him perplexed and frightened him. What idiotic thoughts and daydreams for the first night at the barricade! Months of preparation, sleepless nights, and intense planning to be distracted completely by some _bourgeois' _shadow...

"Listen up!" He called out desperately, catching the attention of _les amis_, "We'll need someone to go to the outside, see if there will be an impending attack any time soon…"

...

Éponine had been wandering aimlessly since hearing the attack resume, yet, she couldn't bring herself to go to Marius or back home. Either way, some sort of horror awaited her.

She sank to her knees at _Jardin du Luxembourg_, bitterly and unintentionally reminding herself of Marius' constant mentions of a blue eyed, golden haired beauty he saw there daily…

The sound of padded footsteps near her caused her to cock her head up and meet the eyes of none other than Montparnasse.

Letting out a scream, Éponine scrambled to her feet and began to flee, till he caught her wrists and pulled her closer to his body protectively.

"What are you doing here?" She snapped, eyeing him angrily.

"Same as you. Looking to forget, to get away…" His voice carried on eerily and caused Éponine to shudder.

"Leave me alone, 'Parnasse." She warned acidly.

"I will, it's just – your father told me to tell you to finish _your job_."

"My job?" Éponine asked curiously, "I don't have job."

Montparnasse chortled and stared at her through fox like eyes, his handsomeness becoming devious and threatening, "You've always impressed me with your ability to lie through your teeth."

"What do you mean?"

Montparnasse shook his head and blatantly replied with, "I know you're a prostitute."

Éponine bit her tongue in frustration and freed herself from the young con man's determined grip, "You have no business in my life!"

"I work for you father, 'Ponine." He snickered, "Besides, don't you remember how fondly you thought of me before you met that star eyed _idiot_?"

"_Idiot_?" She shook her head and backed away from the dark haired fiend, "Leave me alone! I didn't ever need or want you in my life!" She barked.

"You really are a marvellous liar Éponine. Don't you remember our days together?" He muttered pathetically, "Plus, Thénardier wants the money and you're going to give it to him!" He pushed her slightly then backed away, aghast with shame and hidden determination.

Éponine took in a deep breath a nodded innocently, "You're right."

"I- what?" Montparnasse asked, chuckling and patting Éponine on the back, "Of course I am." He corrected, drawing her closer to him.

Éponine grinned and gripped his hand tightly, placing her head on his chest gingerly, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, his heart beginning to race…

"Oh 'Parnasse, how I've missed you." She gushed, wrapping her arms tenderly around his waist.

"Mmm," he mused, stroking her hair curiously.

"I shouldn't be spending my time with the rich when there are men like you." She carried on, drawing him closer and placing a kiss on his lips. He pulled her in for a few moments and smiled as they drew apart.

"Isn't this much better than some _bourgeois_?"

Éponine smiled and nodded, "Much better." She curtseyed sarcastically and turned her back to Montparnasse, hiding his _Francs_ in her rags quickly before running off.

If he had been smart enough to notice her theft, then she would be on the run and Marius might've never been able to see her again.

Then again, he was better off dead the way she left him… Her place was with him!

But Enjolras would murder her if he knew she had appeared for Marius.

Suddenly, an idea flew to Éponine's crowded mind. If she found Cosette, and told her father of her secret relationship with Marius - then he would never let them stay together! After all, Cosette had only met Marius day ago. Marius had known Eponine for months and months! They were meant to be together and she wouldn't let some _bourgeois_ come in the way.


End file.
